


Dense

by hepatica



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Honeypots, M/M, Shower Sex, drunk but fully consensual sex, i played mgsv and know zero is a shipper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-06 20:30:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepatica/pseuds/hepatica
Summary: Snake has a sexual crisis on the beach.





	Dense

**Author's Note:**

> This is so long overdue I'm hugely embarrassed ;n; the prompt was beach and NOT angst so hopefully this seems like a good time vs..everything else I wrote haha. Also this kinda here spiraled out from that PO radio call between Snake and Ocelot that felt like it was about dicks somehow

“That one?”

Ocelot rolled over to see who Snake was talking about. “ _Hah._ Real funny, John. He’s over there - the tall one.”

“Huh…”

“ _Huh_ ,” Ocelot imitated, and promptly returned to his paperback. Snake had been playing ‘spot Ocelot’s latest victim’, and evidently Ocelot had gotten tired of amusing him.

Well, it wasn’t Snake’s problem. He picked up the towel he'd dumped by Ocelot's chair and dried his hair off. He was trying to read what was on the page before Ocelot reminded him coolly: “Don't get too close. The old man gets territorial.”

Snake scanned the beach-going crowd again for the older man’s distant figure. He seemed fit enough - ex-Spetsnaz, apparently. Not surprising, considering the circles Ocelot ran in.

“He doesn't look like much,” Snake lied. “Why didn’t you just turn the mission down?”

“That’s a luxury only you have, _Big Boss,”_ Ocelot replied, eyes back on the page. “Besides, I’ve been on worse.”

Snake couldn’t imagine a more degrading experience whoring himself out, but he wasn’t about to argue it. To his credit, Ocelot was the picture of starstruck devotion around the man, and Snake could only wonder at how many times he and EVA had both played this game before he felt mildly ill.

“Why are you here anyway?” Ocelot asked, peering down the length of his own pale body at Snake.

“Taking a break.”

“Sure you are. EVA brought you?”

Snake mumbled something.

Ocelot smiled, that mean looking one when he'd figured something out. “She stood you up, didn't she?”

“She’s got some business to sort out. She’ll show up in a few days…”

Ocelot made an abrupt hand motion and Snake knew to disengage. Once he was a safe distance down the sand he turned his head just enough to see the target a little more clearly: a tall, muscular, grey-haired man, hand lingering for too long on Ocelot's bare arm as Ocelot rose to meet and fawn over him. Snake felt some vague annoyance at what he was witnessing, and put it down to general distaste for the whole situation.

***

Truth be told Snake had never even wanted to come out here even _with_ EVA attached, but she’d pouted and pleaded for a week off together somewhere _nice_ and Snake couldn’t bear much more needling, so he’d agreed to a week at a cushy beach resort. That Ocelot had appeared two days into his supposed vacation had been a small miracle, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

“Want a light?” came Ocelot’s voice, already flipping open his lighter. Snake pulled a cigar out and let Ocelot lean in. He smelled like smoke already, and the sight of his bare hands was strange - doubly so the feeling of his skin as he brushed over Snake’s fingers.

“I bet you do this for all the older men in your life,” Snake ribbed, enjoying how Ocelot’s face darkened - he’d always been easy to bully, and there wasn’t much else in the way of entertainment out here.

“What, are you jealous?” Ocelot retorted. “Want me to show you some other tricks?”

Now it was Snake’s turn to scoff. He watched the younger man puff away on his own cigarette, looking content to have stolen some time away for himself.

“This place isn't really my style,” Ocelot let out, eyes on the polished decking and wide, glorious views of a pristine beach. “Stinks like privilege. Don't know how EVA does it.”

Snake let the smoke ruminate in his mouth before exhaling. “She’s got expensive taste. Surprised you don't - technically the legacy was your inheritance.”

Ocelot pulled a face like he hadn't even considered it before. “Well, I spent it on a good cause then, didn't I?”

“You didn't keep any of it?”

“No. I make enough on my own. It was dirty money anyway - wouldn't have felt good keeping any of it.”

“What, the money you make on the side isn’t dirty? You could’ve quit this job. Gone wherever you wanted.”

Ocelot looked thoughtful for a moment. “Money isn't what keeps me here. It’s not like I could survive doing anything else...you know what I’m talking about.”

Of course Snake did. If anything could be said of their relationship it was that they existed on a similar wavelength. They rounded out their smoking in peaceable quiet. Ocelot drank a little, or enough to keep him capable of acting like he enjoyed what he was doing, then stood up and stretched.

“Sorry to ditch you, but I’m expected somewhere,” he declared.

“Guess I’ll drink this by myself,” Snake said, pouring out a pity glass for himself.

Ocelot smiled. “Don't act like you don't prefer it that way. I'll see you around.”

“If you’re lucky,” Snake replied, but Ocelot was already striding out to meet his company.

***

Ocelot was usually by the Russian’s side; close enough to let the informed know where he belonged, far enough to keep people guessing. Snake hadn’t thought much about that sort of thing, but he was reminded of _one_ thing, and felt compelled to bring it out as they stood on the balcony of his room, observing a balmy evening shower wash over the shore.

“You ever... _you know_ ,” he started, watching Ocelot’s face for signs of recognition. When Ocelot stared at him blankly, Snake continued, “With Volgin -”

Ocelot’s eyes narrowed before pointing a finger hard at Snakes chest, jabbing at Snake’s heart like he meant to injure. “I'm no bitch in heat!”

Snake chuckled and brushed him off. It wasn’t until he noticed Ocelot’s troubled expression he added: “Never thought you were. It’s just a job, right?”

Ocelot’s expression was unusually gracious, softened a little by the rain falling in soft sheets around them. “Sure. Still...wish I could just run off and be like you.”

“Like me?”

Ocelot waved his hand. “Going on missions. _Real_ ones. Combat! Not this...cozying up to people. Makes me sick. You know, I really thought when we started up this Patriots thing I could...”

He laughed then, self-deprecating.

Snake placed a hand on Ocelot's shoulder. “If it wasn't for you and EVA doing this kind of work we wouldn't get anywhere. It's not like I'm any good at it.”

Ocelot fondly patted the hand laid over his shoulder and returned to gazing at the rainswept sea.

***

Snake briefly considered luring someone else in to spend the rest of the vacation with him when it became clear EVA had no plans of showing up, but once he cycled through the list he really couldn’t think of anyone who was either free, sane, or the kind of company he’d want in close quarters for another five days. He had no home life to speak of, and inviting someone into his hotel room who wasn’t a lover felt like a step too far in the direction of personal.

Ocelot was reliable, unobtrusive company, and so he would have to do until the ordeal was over.

Said company was picking over his breakfast in the dining hall when Snake joined him. He seemed wrapped up in some deep thought; the loud drag of Snake’s chair across the floor alerted the other man to his presence.

“Enjoying the married life?” Snake asked, unfolding the morning paper he’d picked up from reception.

Ocelot looked up bitterly, then shifted in his seat as if he was in pain. “Never better.”

“You get into a fight?”

A snort. When Snake continued to look at Ocelot with skepticism the other man frowned. “What, you’ve never tried the back door?”

“Of what?”

Ocelot's face trembled for a moment, like he might laugh or cry, and suddenly Snake knew _exactly_ what he meant.

“That’s enough,” Snake interjected, caught somewhere between repulsion and damnable curiosity. He knew Ocelot was enticing, in a hard way - for a man. _To_ men. He wasn’t dressing much like himself either, all unbuttoned shirts. Or maybe he was - Snake had rarely seen him outside of field-wear or a business suit. The concept of Ocelot as a human being with a sex life was an odd one that made him uneasy; he pinned it down to some familial outlook. Or maybe Snake didn’t like to think of Ocelot being normal in some way he wasn’t, like it was some betrayal of the odd kinship they’d formed. He turned his attention to stirring his coffee.

“Was it one room, or two?” Ocelot asked suddenly.

“Huh?”

“Your room bookings,” Ocelot continued, picking apart a pastry like he was disassembling a bomb.

“One.”

“On again or off again?”

“Mostly off. Who knows.”

“You make it seem hard.”

“What?”

“Relationships. If you want to be with her then why don't you? What's the struggle?”

“Probably seems easy to someone who’s never tried it before.”

Ocelot smirked. “I’m not a one person kind of man. Besides, seeing you two at it has put me off of it for life.”

“I’m glad I gave you such a valuable life lesson.”

Ocelot checked his watch and gulped the rest of his tea down before pushing the chair back with a screech. “Gotta go - I’m already late. He already thinks I'm fucking half the guests in this hotel behind his back.”

“I feel like you want him to think that,” Snake replied.

Ocelot smiled. “I’ll be at the beach later - you know where.”

Of course he did - they had an understanding, after all. Snake really didn’t have anything better to do by the time evening rolled by anyway, so he ended up on the beach waiting. The sky had burned red by the time Ocelot spotted him and strode over, the resort lights hazy embers in the distance.

“Heh. So you wanted to see me,” he declared like he’d won something, sitting down on the sand by Snake’s side.

“Not like I got anyone else here,” Snake answered.

Ocelot gave him one of those half-smiles before turning his gaze to the sea. “Remember San Hieronymo?”

“What about it?”

“You said you’d take me out to a resort in the Caribbean.”

“And you said you’d think about it,” Snake reminded the other man. “Finally make up your mind?”

“You can take me on that vacation if you want it so bad,” Ocelot replied smartly.

Snake’s ego wouldn’t allow that to slide. “I bet you really would’ve liked that just a couple years ago.”

Ocelot looked briefly horrified, kicking up sand as he twisted around to face Snake. “Who told you?”

“EVA.” _Repeatedly, over many years,_ Snake should have added, but that just made him look idiotic.

Ocelot deflated somewhat. “That was a stupid teenage crush anyway,” he replied. “Everybody gets them. Besides, _your_ stupid thing for EVA could’ve cost you the whole mission if I wasn’t keeping an eye on you.”

“Guess we’re both idiots, huh?” Snake replied with a touch of nostalgia.

“I’m no idiot,” Ocelot argued. “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

“So you still wanna kiss - “

Ocelot pushed him over into the sand and crushed shells, grappling him until Snake responded in kind. They didn’t half-ass their fights, even for an abrupt brawl across the sand, and came apart breathing raggedly and sore in new places.

“Nice technique,” Snake offered, along with a hand for Ocelot to pull himself up on. “The jab at my throat was interesting.”

“Thought you’d appreciate it,” Ocelot replied, voice lurching as he got on his feet. “I’m going for a swim. You coming?”

It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be, and the water looked nice enough. The dipping sun cast a glimmering light over the tide, but Snake found himself watching the way Ocelot’s hair stuck down the back of his neck.

“I can feel you staring,” Ocelot remarked, curving in the water to face Snake. "Thoughts?"

“Just thinking about how I hope you swim better than a cat,” Snake replied right before he pushed Ocelot’s head under the water.

***

Typically, Zero felt the need to check in.

_“You’re with Ocelot?”_

“Yeah...how’d you know?”

_“It’s almost as if you should know by now that things don’t happen around here coincidentally,”_

Snake frowned down the phone-line like Zero might see him. Accusing Ocelot of somehow planning the whole thing sat on Snake’s tongue, but he knew better than to think Ocelot was scheming against him by now, and Ocelot didn’t seem any happier about being here than Snake was.

He turned to the next likely culprit.

“EVA…?”

“ _Christ, you haven’t forgotten what my job is, have you? Been drinking for a few days and your brain has already collapsed in on itself.”_

Snake scowled. “You set this up.”

 _“I may have encouraged EVA to lure you out there for a little rest and relaxation,”_ Zero replied, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

“And then you made sure EVA was busy and left me out here all alone?

_“All alone? Weren’t you just saying Ocelot was there? You should both be thanking me. Now get back to your holiday - and try to have some fun. Oh, and say hello to Ocelot for me, the bastard won't answer my calls.”_

The call ended and Snake was left wondering why the hell Zero even wanted him near Ocelot for anyway. Snake imagined that if it was for some bonding time between them then Zero might have invited himself along for the trip.

He asked Ocelot about it, because he asked Ocelot about everything that needed knowing.

“Hasn’t said anything to me,” Ocelot said, leaning on the deck railing with a drink in hand and taking in the sea breeze. “Not that I answer his calls - you know how much he talks? No, wait, he did try to get me on a vacation a few months back. But I told him I’m not the type. Unless - “ He choked a little, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Son of a bitch!”

Ocelot left Snake standing there, presumably to go snarl at Zero over the phone for whatever offence he’d committed. When Snake saw him next Ocelot shrugged it off.

“You know how senility is,” he replied vaguely, and that was that.

***

He found Ocelot looking bored in the middle of a group conversation, knuckles pressed deeply into his cheek the further he slumped on his chair. The lounge smelled heavily of vodka and smoke, but Snake couldn’t see either on Ocelot’s person.

“Bring your guns?” Snake asked quietly, dipping down to Ocelot’s ear level. A Russian sitting on the lounge across from Ocelot looked curious at the intrusion before he was drawn back into conversation.

“Who do you think I am?” Ocelot whispered back, sounding bewildered by the suggestion he might go _anywhere_ unarmed. Half an hour later they had found an old tin shack fallen to pieces, far enough away from civilisation to fire off a few rounds in peace. After being cooped up so long the experience of pulling the trigger was almost heavenly - better than sex, certainly.

“The Russian know about your hobby?” Snake asked, lowering his gun to watch Ocelot mindlessly twirl his revolver.

“Of course. How do you think he noticed me? He wanted me to teach him tricks.”

“I bet he did.”

Ocelot tossed his gun and caught it with a self-satisfied smile. “Sounds like jealousy.”

“You wish. But go ahead, show me how it's done.”

Ocelot knew what he meant - they had been attempting on and off for several years to get Snake mastering ricochet shots. For warfare purposes, of course. Snake was beginning to think the skill was actually some type of paranormal ability Ocelot had unknowingly harnessed, but it didn't stop them from trying.

“Still no luck?” Ocelot asked, genuinely curious.

“Can't see the point in it.”

“So you can't justify learning how to do it. Hmm...maybe you’re just not using the right gun?”

“I’ve been using your revolver.”

Ocelot fumbled his own gun for a moment. He spoke calmly as soon as he resumed spinning, “You still got that?”

“I wouldn't throw away a man’s prized gun. Besides, you gave it to me - and it’s a nice gun.”

“I know it is. Too bad engraving isn’t your thing, would’ve made a nicer present.”

“Show off,” Snake accused, catching the revolver thrown to him. Ocelot moved beside him, hands on his shoulders and leaning down to level his eyesight with Snake’s. He was taller now, considerably so; Snake wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“I’m going to assume you wanted to learn about ricochet, not the tricks,” Ocelot said, mouth perilously close to Snake’s ear. Trained professional Snake may have been, but the low sound of someone’s voice tickling his ear sent a pleasant chill down his spine. He tightened his grip to centre his concentration upon realising Ocelot had been speaking and he hadn’t heard a thing. He almost complained that maybe he’d have a better go at shooting if Ocelot wasn’t standing so damn close, but that felt like he was giving too much away; the ghost of Ocelot’s touch had unsettled his nerves, and firing a clean shot suddenly became a strenuous task.

“Not bad,” Ocelot remarked, picking up the stray bullet and inspecting it between his fingers. “We’ll make something out of you yet.”

Snake handed the gun back. “You sure about that? Wouldn’t want to steal your tricks.”

“I wouldn’t teach just _anyone_ ,” Ocelot replied. “And I think you’re a little more than an anyone. I owe you for showing me the ropes on CQC anyway.” He paused to smile at the memory. “Maybe we could do that some other time. Just like the old days, right?”

Snake wasn’t sure why that was so pleasing to hear. “Sure,” he mumbled out, and spent the night back in his room perturbed at why it _felt_ just like the old days. Ocelot got taller, Snake withdrew further, but nothing changed between them, not really: he still felt that odd, giddy rush at seeing Ocelot’s gaze fixed on him like he was the most impressive thing in the world. He’d harassed Ocelot for his teenage crush, but the more he thought about it the more he realised with a sense of increasing dread that he’d never even acknowledged his feelings on the matter - just pushed it aside out of ignorance and assumed it was some strange effect that mission had on him. Besides, he'd had EVA to distract himself with back then, but now she'd gone and - 

Naturally he stopped thinking about it and went to sleep.

***

“That blond man - he’s your brother?”

Snake caught the drink in his mouth before it spilled down his chin. He’d been drinking alone at the bar before his unwanted guest arrived, red dress cut low and smelling of wine. Snake watched the diamond on her wedding ring glimmer as she placed her drink on the bar with firm intent. If she knew about him meeting with Ocelot than she must have been observing him for days.

“You could say that,” he said, and it wasn't entirely a lie.

“Interesting,” she replied, fake enthusiasm evident. “Aside from him, you’re here alone?”

“Wife couldn’t make it,” Snake answered, trying to throw her off his scent.

“What a devoted husband.”

“Sure is,” came Ocelot's voice, efficiently closing in on Snake’s stool and cutting the woman off. “You’re coming to see something. Come on!” he insisted, shaking at Snake’s arm when he very slowly moved off his spot at the bar.

They’d wandered about a quarter-mile down the beach in the dark until they came to a stop, the sound of heavy palm trees thick in the cool air.

“What am I supposed to be seeing right now?” Snake finally asked.

“Nothing,” Ocelot replied. “I just thought you’d appreciate the rescue.”

“Heh. Could’ve at least let me bring my drink if we’re just going to stare at the tide come in.”

“Feels kind of...strange, standing here,” Ocelot let out slowly, and Snake wondered if he’d been drinking. He was almost tempted to lean in and sniff where Ocelot’s shirt was open when the man added: “We don’t spend much time together, do we? Just - ” he motioned widely, “doing this.”

“Standing around in the dark?”

“Nothing.”

Snake tried to recall the last time they’d spent more than a few hours together, but the only feedback was the gentle motion of waves. “You could come to the US more often. Write it off as a vacation. I - Zero would be happy to see your face around more often. He's always whining about how he's got nobody decent to play chess with.”

“I told you, I'm not really a vacationer. Right here, right now, is fine.”

He imbued it with meaning that Snake wasn't certain of, but it felt _good -_ like Ocelot had held clasped his shoulder without touching him. It wasn’t unlike how he’d felt around The Boss as a fifteen year old. Ocelot had always been good at undemanding affection after they had settled into their friendship - maybe that was why Snake had yet to push him away.

“You know that woman at the bar?” Snake asked, changing the subject the moment that buzz returned. Ocelot turned to him looking intrigued, so Snake explained, “She's been watching us ever since I got the here. She a spy?

Ocelot’s face went flat before he laughed loudly into his fist. “Oh boy, you really _are_ dense. How did you ever get laid in the first place? _”_

“Huh?”

Snake’s dumbfounded response, then eventual grouchy realisation of what Ocelot was teasing him about only set off the young man's drunken laughter a notch louder. When he settled he looked Snake fondly. “Well, you can always go back. I won't tell EVA, but I'm warning you - I'm no fan of infidelity.”

Snake considered it for a moment before deciding he actually liked being out here even more than the prospect of getting laid. “We’re not exclusive,” Snake replied, “but I'm not looking to go anywhere else tonight. Like you said, here is fine.”

Ocelot gave him an odd smile. “EVA’s generous to share you.”

“I'm no prize.”

“Dense,” Ocelot reiterated.

***

Snake was spending longer in his room now, unwilling to face whatever was happening _out there_ with Ocelot _,_ so Ocelot came to his door instead.

“I need you to rub some cream on my back,” Ocelot demanded, looking noticeably raw with tube already in hand. “It's stings so damn much I can't get to sleep.”

“Why don't you get your lover to -”

“Because he's the one who screwed up applying it in the first place,” Ocelot replied irritably. He pressed the tube into Snake’s chest and pulled his shirt off, apparently taking that as a yes. “Where do you want me?”

It didn’t really matter what Snake wanted because Ocelot was already flopping down on the bed, stomach on the sheets. Ocelot did what he wanted, and Snake let him, with a little advice here and there - that was the way it was between them.

“Ouch,” Snake replied dryly, ignoring the vague feeling of longing in his chest at the sight of that familiar pale skin spread out on the bed. He’d seen that back a thousand times growing up, turned away from him at camp -

“You going to start back there?” Ocelot needled, breaking the spell. “I've got places to be.”

“What, back to bed?”

Ocelot ignored the jab as Snake started rubbing the cream in, not as gently as he might have with a woman - now that he’d made the comparison, and could feel how Ocelot breathed beneath his palms, he felt the urge to overdo it. Besides, a little pain was what he deserved for confusing Snake like this.

When he was done Ocelot stood up to pull his shirt back on, oddly reserved as he thanked Snake. His eyes went roaming around the room before falling on a stack of hotel-provided cards. “You wanna play cards?”

“Thought you said you had places to be?”

“Oh, so you don’t wanna play with me?”

“...Yeah, all right.”

Ocelot sat cross-legged on the bed, throwing cards on the bed like he had every intention of winning. He didn’t, of course, because the universe generally conspired against him when it came to beating Snake. He let out a loud groan and veered backwards before remembering his back hurt and pulling himself forwards. “Do I _have_ to go back out there? I can’t even leave when you do. Another three days of his idiot friends...what a nightmare.”

“At least this guy can’t zap you.”

“Sure, but at least the bitch distracted him. Raidenovitch, that is,” Ocelot added, in case Snake felt the need to defend EVA’s honour. He looked deeply sour for a moment before adding childishly, “Now _I’m_ the bitch.”

“Did he ever try it on you?”

Ocelot squinted. “Once or twice when I was younger. Couldn’t push his luck when I was the son of a legendary soldier, though. Why do you wanna know?”

Snake shrugged. He didn’t know why he’d even asked it - he didn’t care about what other people did in their free time, let alone with their dicks. But when Ocelot finally left Snake was compelled to rub one out, the other man’s shape vaguely formed in his mind. When he'd finished wiping up he sat heavily on the bed.

The hell was he doing? It didn't feel particularly _dirty_ \- just a little sleazy, fucking around with the memory of someone he'd known since before he was fully grown. Sex wasn't a particular intimacy, at least not anymore; he considered it more of a bodily emission that sometimes needed venting. A hiccup. He liked Ocelot, Ocelot liked him, EVA wasn’t here and he lacked the interest or imagination to conjure up anyone else. It was natural, or as normal as beating off to a fellow soldier - which he never did, but The Boss had let him know about it because there was nothing she wouldn’t share with him -

\- which was an especially suspect line of thought considering what he’d just done, so he cut it right off and smoked a cigar like he’d actually gotten laid in order to forget it. Two more days left and he could go right back to seeing Ocelot on the off-season.

***

There was an elegant looking envelope slipped under Snake’s door the next morning. He opened it with a groan: an invitation to dinner with the Russians.

“It wasn't me,” Ocelot insisted as Snake pulled out his tux. “Take that to room service - you can't show up with that crease.”

“Whatever you say. Why am I even going?”

“Because he heard all about you, and he wants to meet this legendary hero who stopped a nuclear apocalypse in the flesh. And Zero says you have to. Anyway, I'll be back later to make sure you look decent.”

“I know how to get dressed,” Snake grumbled as Ocelot exited the room.

Despite the petulance Snake obediently showered and trimmed his beard, and was buttoning his shirt when Ocelot arrived, sharply dressed and smelling pleasant. He looked up and down with some intent that Snake couldn't put his finger on.

“ _Nice,_ ” was all he said before turning on his heel and heading back to the door. “I'll head off first. You come down in ten.”

Snake wanted to feign a stomach ache more than anything, but twelve minutes later he was shaking hands with the Russian as Ocelot watched on from his trophy-like position at the man’s side. Snake replied to their interrogations in their language; the man looked pleased enough with his knowledge and grilled him further about his wartime exploits and whatever else took his fancy for the duration it took to dish out their meal.

At some point during dessert Snake let his brain evaporate with every rehearsed line that tumbled out of his mouth. He drank to make the time pass faster, then drank even more when Ocelot very purposefully lined up his body against Russian’s side, leaning over to murmur in his ear. Snake may have been fluent in Russian, but he didn’t know some of the pet names and slang they were exchanging and felt mildly revolted and excluded from the affair.

“You have a lover?” the Russian asked, arm still hooked around the back of Ocelot’s chair, the perfect picture of smugness.

“Depends on her mood,” Snake replied, facing the bottom of another wine glass.

“A difficult woman, eh? Just my type. You know what you do with those?” When Snake shook his head, the Russian grabbed Ocelot by the arm, shaking him with drunken purpose. “Show her you’re a man!”

Snake thought EVA probably would like that, but Ocelot seemed the type to swing out wildly with his fist if Snake tried manhandling him. As it was Ocelot was neutered by obligation, and simply laughed like the bitch in heat he’d so furiously declared he wasn’t. Snake downed another drink to wash away his untoward bitterness before declaring his night was over.

“Already?” Ocelot whined in a tone that may or may not have been sincere.

“Old man's gotta sleep,” Snake replied. He was aware of Ocelot watching him go and ignored it, instead rubbing at his eyepatch like it still ached him.

Back in his room he swung the window open, letting the cool sea air flow in. He laid out on the bed and stayed there, too drunk to get up and too bogged down by disturbed, sticky thoughts. The hell was he even doing? He didn’t want to date, or marry, or commit to a damn thing. But he couldn’t help but turn over _He's pretty infatuated with you_ in his mind, the phrase taking on a new seriousness when Snake stopped treating it like the exaggerated feelings of a teenager who barely knew him.

He did like Ocelot, in some way. He liked attracting the other man’s attention, like it meant something important about himself. He just wasn’t sure when he’d started using The Boss’s son as a measuring stick for how worthwhile he was - or just when he’d started thinking it was okay to jerk off to his beloved’s child.

But Ocelot had said he’d gotten over it, hadn't he? He was older now, more put-together - probably far more experienced as a lover than Snake would ever be, considering his line of work and how he wielded his immense ego. Snake briefly wondered what it might be like, sleeping with Ocelot - whether he would -

\- it was at about this point that he realised just how drunk and forlorn he’d become and gave up thinking altogether, opting to trace patterns on the ceiling instead and cursing EVA for ditching him yet again. He may have dozed off for a few hours, or entered some semi-conscious state where time bled out in an instant, because the second he heard knocking at the door he was violently awakened.

“It’s me,” Ocelot declared from the other side of the locked door. Snake begrudgingly got up to let him in because for some reason he’d never thought to keep him out.

“Can I use your shower?” Ocelot asked, sounding far more cautious than when Snake had been rubbing lotion into his skin. Snake remembered that - and what came after - and immediately withdrew, now certain his interest wasn't just spurred by the drink or boredom.

Ocelot barely waited for a response, muttering something about how they were all drunk idiots as he pulled his shirt hem from his trousers and headed towards the bathroom. There were fresh bruises across his skin where it wasn't burned red; Snake watched as the light beamed from the room, struck by some odd feeling as the water hissed against the tiles. He tried not to think too deeply on his actions, and so he was at the shower curtain before he could turn the wisdom of it over in his mind. Ocelot turned his head, eyes bright through the steamy haze.

“John-” Ocelot started warily as Snake’s hand met with wet skin. He palmed over Ocelot’s jaw, tracing a deep scar down his throat to his belly. Ocelot flinched as Snake’s fingers grazed lower, down to vulnerable skin; Ocelot was holding so tightly to the tap that he might snap it off.

There was a long moment of uneasiness between them as Snake’s hand dipped further, pushing into curls. Ocelot moved first - he was faster, as always. He slammed Snake to the wall, then to the slippery floor like he meant to break him for daring; Snake grappled back, catching Ocelot’s jaw in a half-thrown punch. He caught a flash of anger cross Ocelot’s face - _right, he hated being beaten_ \- then Ocelot’s mouth was on his, hard and biting and hot. Snake pressed back, sloppy teeth and tongue, and Ocelot made a sound like the air had been punched out of him. Snake used the vulnerability to twist Ocelot onto his back and pin his hands down. If he knew what he was doing Snake might have fucked him, but couldn't grasp the procedure in his slurred state and started grinding instead.

Ocelot seemed to give up on caring about his pride at about this point, spreading his legs wider and clenching his jaw as he brushed against Snake’s dick. Snake shuddered at the contact and pushed back, the feeling electric and filthy as they rocked together. They found a rhythm sliding on the wet floor, awkwardly gripping each other, whining and breathing into each other’s mouths. It hurt where they’d bitten and bruised each other _,_ but Snake enjoyed the sting.

Snake waited for Ocelot to find his outrage and flip him over, but the moment never came - Ocelot dug his fingers bruisingly hard into Snake’s arms, bucking as he comes. Snake watched with rapt attention, suddenly compelled to jam his fingers into Ocelot’s mouth until he bit down, spit wet on his chin.

When Ocelot found enough strength in his trembling limbs he pushed Snake off, gathering himself on his knees as Snake makes an effort to stand without collapsing. Of course Snake was still hard - he’s barely clinging to composure, red face giving Ocelot a clear indication it’s precarious hold.

“You going to jerk off, or am I going to help?” Ocelot asked bluntly, and Snake’s discomfort grew. He wanted to say _yes,_ but -

“It’s fine,” Snake answered, all too aware of his cock straining against his pants. “I’ll just - clean up and take care of it. In my room.”

“We're _in_ your room,” Ocelot replied with exasperation before dropping to his knees and working at Snake’s zipper. He had his mouth on Snake’s dick in moments, lips circling his cock like he’d done it a thousand times. _He probably has,_ Snake thinks almost viciously before the voice flees at the feeling of wet heat around his cock. Ocelot’s tongue dragged and- jesus christ that felt good. Ocelot drew back to press his tongue at the slit, gathering cum before pushing down until his nose hit curls. He kept up a smooth rhythm, sucking the tip and swallowing back down, finally all the way down until it hit the back of his throat, moaning like it was the best he'd ever had. Snake might have groaned something about how he was a good boy, how somebody trained him well, but he wasn't sure - he'd had to look away, the hazy blonde at his lap too familiar.

Snake gripped the sink to hold himself up and took Ocelot’s hair with the other hand, urging his cock deeper into Ocelot’s throat again. The younger man choked - the feeling was good, his warm throat contracting around his cock until he was grunting and coming. Ocelot leaned back and promptly spat Snake’s cum out - always the tidy one.

“You want something else ?” Ocelot asked, cautiously eyeing Snake from his position on the floor, water streaming over his flushed pink skin. “I have finish my shower. Don't get any ideas about sharing it.”

The curtain was promptly pulled on him. Snake moved to the bed and stayed there, still heat-heavy from the shower and feeling vaguely guilty. Ocelot emerged ten minutes later, towel-drying his hair.

“Did Zero put you up to it?” Ocelot accused, pride evidently flaring up. “Was it funny for you?”

Snake frowned. “Zero? What's he got to do with it?”

Ocelot stared at him hard until he uncovered an answer that satisfied him. “I guess you're not really the type to set anything up. So why'd you do it?”

“Because I wanted to,” he answered with the reluctance of a child being scolded. “And I'm drunk.”

“So, you like me when you're drunk.”

“I like you enough when I'm sober.”

Snake worried for a brief moment that Ocelot was about to gut him, but the young man leaned over and kissed him on the mouth, then his cheek.

“I know.”

***

_“Enjoy your trip?”_

“No,” Snake half-lied to Zero, eyeing Ocelot as he lit up a cigarette. “You got some work lined up for when I get back, right?”

_“That eager to get back to the mission, eh? Good to hear you’re well rested. Is Ocelot there?”_

Snake ignored the implication and handed the receiver to Ocelot, who didn't bother pushing himself off the wall to answer. Snake watched his face steadily go redder the longer Zero held him on the line until he slammed the phone back on the receiver.

“Nosy bastard,” Ocelot let out, puffing on his cigarette with increased vigour.

“Wasn't bad, “Snake replied, trying to rile Ocelot up just a little more. “Might even do it again - if I had company.”

Ocelot squinted at him, just a little.

“I'll think about it.”


End file.
